


Midnight Meetings

by colorthefall



Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 17:04:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6292645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorthefall/pseuds/colorthefall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lorna finds a gorgeous garden that she sneaks out at night to visit, all while not knowing who it belongs to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Meetings

The orchard was filled with a myriad of flowers and fruits, which all united into an enchanting garden that Lorna couldn’t stay away from.

Though she knew Auntie Whispers would have had a fit if she knew, she snuck away from her home and hopped the picket fence closing off the property each moonrise, in search of new fruits to craft jellies with and to mix in with muffin and pancake batter. She felt guilty for telling elaborate lies to her Aunt about how a kindly stranger must be leaving the fruit baskets on their front porch overnight, but the smile on the elderly woman’s face each time she bit into a biscuit with one of Lorna’s contraband jams slathered on it was enough to justify the tall-tales.

Still, another, more pressing issue remained, sitting pretty on her fanciful mind whenever it wandered back to that captivating garden; _who_ did it belong to?

The hedges were always trimmed to perfection, and it seemed a new species of flower was planted there each day. Lorna could have sworn that the stepping stones leading up to the manor belonged to the groundskeeper, but by the looks of the shattered windows and balcony doors which stood perpetually ajar, coupled with the cobwebs and muck in the gutters, Lorna reasoned it must have been abandoned some time ago.  If not, whoever was responsible for such an immaculately groomed group of plants and trees certainly couldn’t be content to live in such a pigsty.

So she began visiting the garden while Auntie Whispers took afternoon naps, taking the risk of being discovered to soothe her own conscience. But even with the sun out, on the most beautiful spring evenings that were impossible not to go for a stroll in, Lorna never actually _saw_ anyone else on the property. The cookies and biscuits she’d store in her basket as a peace offering grew cold as she set them aside to ravage the garden all over again.

The idea that one of these nights she may be caught red-handed for her crimes hung over her head like a storm cloud. But something in her heart kept urging her to revisit it and take what she pleased.

So she grabbed her basket and an imaginary umbrella and was on her way, slipping out of the cottage without stirring Auntie Whispers. Lorna ran as quickly as she could through the woods, knowing the territory well enough not to need a lantern.

When she arrived, she found herself fixated with the pale white moon beams glaring off of the dewy foliage blanketing the hillside. She stood silently for a moment to take in its beauty, a smile ghosting her rosy lips.

Grabbing the hem of her skirt with one hand, and using the other to balance a basket on her opposite, Lorna skipped to the orchard, dodging rocks and exposed roots. She stared at her feet all the while, concentrating so as not to lose her step.

“ **STOP**!”

Lorna looked up to see where the shout came from, but her eyes only briefly befell a shadowy figure before she tripped over a stone and landed in the grass with a thud.

“ **Gotcha**!” the voice declared proudly.

Lorna’s heart twitched in unison with her shallow breaths. She closed her eyes instinctively, to avoid eye contact with who could have only reasonably been the mysterious gardener. She could feel them hovering over her, her panic-stricken mind already playing out the scene in which she’d be taken away by the authorities.

“ _You’ve_ been messing up my garden for weeks.”

Beatrice raised a brow at the cowering girl in green, who looked very much like a turtle, frozen on its back with no hope of being upright again without assistance.

But it wasn’t like she was _angry_ at her; the garden had dozens of berry bushes, and the trees could always grow more apples and pears. Lorna never left it in shambles like an average, every-day crook would have, either. Beatrice wanted to properly meet the benevolent trespasser for some time, but was always forced to leave when she came late at night, back to the grist mill before her parents realized she was gone.

“Well, don’t just _lay_ there. I want to talk to you.” Beatrice murmured in a somewhat gentler tone.

She reached to take Lorna by the hands and pulled her to her feet, forced to peer down to the other’s eye-level.

“Hello? Are you there?”

When Lorna did open her eyes, the emerald green irises made themselves scarce, quickly seeking refuge behind the bangs that had come undone beneath her bonnet.

“Terribly sorry, I- didn’t know this lovely garden belonged to you!” she stammered, eyes scanning the area for her basket, mostly for the sake of avoiding Beatrice’s gaze.

The gardener remained silent and watched in amusement as Lorna scurried through the surrounding area searching for her basket, murmuring about how her Auntie had made it for her, and she just _couldn’t_ lose it, it would break her heart if she did!

Finally, when Lorna fell in a patch of daisies and pressed her hands over her teary eyes in resignation, Beatrice moseyed to her side, and set the basket she’d been holding in her hand (in _plain sight_ , mind you) in front of her.

“It’s not my garden either, you know.” Beatrice whispered in Lorna’s ear.            

“Wh-what?”

Beatrice felt heat rising to her cheeks, a smirk making its way onto her lips. She plucked the bonnet swiftly from Lorna’s head and watched the other’s chestnut brown hair fall into disarray, to be tossed about by the breeze, and by Beatrice’s own fingers.

She’d seen Lorna so many times before, and was itching to see what type of hair she had beneath her headwear. She was instantly captivated with her long, silky tresses, and glad she’d given into her desire to touch it after all this time.  

“Relax. This place has been abandoned for years.”

Lorna’s pasty skin looked like it had been dunked in a pot of boiling water when the clouds drifted away from the moon, and light fell upon her face. She moved her hands to cover her mouth, her body relaxing slightly as Beatrice continued to toy with her hair and the news that she wouldn’t be arrested for trespassing settled in.

“It… has?” she whispered.

Her companion nodded.

“I mean, I do all the planting and stuff, but it’s technically not _my_ property. It’s not anyone’s.”

Lorna closed her eyes and giggled nervously, beyond relieved, and quite taken with the way Beatrice gingerly raked through her hair.

Beatrice gathered it all into a bundle and twisted it to sit on top of Lorna’s head before she carefully set the bonnet back in its place.

“O-oh.”

Lorna was disappointed, but said nothing more on the matter and willed herself to look at the other’s face directly. Her skin reddened further as she noted the other’s soft features, and the freckles studded in circles on her cheeks. She had never seen someone with hair that was such a deep shade of crimson, nor did she ever find she liked the color blue.

Beatrice somehow made it all look charming.

“Might I ask your name?” Lorna inquired, absently reaching for her basket and holding it in her lap.

“Beatrice. Yours?”

“Lorna…”

“Nice to meet you.”

Beatrice shuffled for a moment before she reached for Lorna’s free hand. She had the intent of _shaking_ it as a proper, formal greeting, but Lorna- bless her heart- completely misunderstood, and _held_ it tenderly. The taller of the duo was taken aback, but let her odd new friend indulge herself, while biting back laughter.

“Is it alright that I’ve been helping myself to the fruits?” Lorna asked, ignorant of her mistake.

“Yeah. I don’t mind.” Beatrice grinned. “But I’ve been wanting to ask you what you’re doing with all of them.”

“Oh! Jam!” Lorna exclaimed, jumping slightly. “They make the loveliest jams. I’ve been bringing some to taste, but no one seems to be here during the day…”

“Well, I can’t come here too often because my parents hate it when I wander off alone.” Beatrice admitted somewhat bashfully, rolling her eyes. “It’s a long story.”

“My Auntie is the same way.” Lorna gasped.

The girls sat and swapped stories about their over-bearing caretakers. Time seemed to slip away from them as they wandered through the garden, hand in hand, infrequently letting go to pick up fruits to store in Lorna’s basket. It was only when the moon began its descent in the sky to greet the morning sun that either them showed signs of waking from the spell they both had fallen under.

“Oh no. What time is it?” Beatrice groaned.  

They must have been out there for hours, twice as long as they usually stayed. Beatrice’s parents went to bed early, but always woke around three in the morning to check on their children in bed, and to get the mill ready for another day’s work. Her father was going to have her head.

“Lorna. Bad news. We’ve got to go.”

She leaned down to the rosebush that Lorna was kneeling in front of, where she gathered flowers for a makeshift bouquet with a handful of daises.  

“Oh no! Auntie Whispers will be waking soon!” Lorna cried, hands trembling as Beatrice helped her up.

“Hey! It’s going to be alright!” Beatrice reassured her, holding her by the shoulders. “Look, I have an idea; how about you bring your Aunt with you tomorrow? I’ll bring my parents. I bet if we just tell them we’ve been with each other the whole time, they won’t be mad!”

“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea.” Lorna sighed in relief. “You’re very sharp, Beatrice.”

“Yeah?” Beatrice laughed, hands returning to her sides. She paused for a moment, stomach fluttering. “Well _you’re_ very cute.”

“These are for-“  

At the same time, Lorna had thrust the small bouquet into Beatrice’s hands. She only registered the compliment when she saw how flushed Beatrice has gotten. They waited a moment, before they both spoke at the same time again.

“Thank you-“

“Thanks.”

Laughter ensued. Lorna slowly let go of Beatrice’s hands and turned back toward the hillside, overlooking the dark, lonely woods she’d be forced to trek through, to return home to a distraught Aunt who would no doubt lecture her all morning before she’d even get a word in.

But she was giddy. Beatrice warmed her skin, and made her heart feel tight as though it were being hugged. Lorna loved daydreaming, and now Beatrice- who still had so much mystery to her, after only making her acquaintance for a few hours- had given her a year’s worth of nights lying awake and wondering what her life is like beyond the garden.

“See you tomorrow, Lorna.” Beatrice called over her shoulder.

“Yes! See you then, Beatrice!” Lorna cheered, turning around to wave to her, all while walking briskly down the steep hill.

Not a wise decision, as fate would have it.

“A-AH!” she screeched as she felt herself tripping once again, this time over her own foot.

“ **Lorna**! Not _again!”_ Beatrice yelped, setting the bouquet aside to go and stop her poor friend from spiraling out of control.

**Author's Note:**

> First Bluebell story ever! Thank you to the person on tumblr who requested it because I have endless ideas for Poetic Bee and fear I might not have written this otherwise simply because my love for Poetic Bee is so strong. Bluebell is an adorable pairing though and the girls have a lot in common! I think they would get along well. Their clashing personalities would make all of their interactions very interesting because I don't think Lorna would ever bite back if Beatrice was being short with her. She'd still be patient and try to talk through the issue, which is what Beatrice needs. ♥ Hope you all enjoyed the read! This won't be the last of this pairing you'll see from me!


End file.
